


Movements of an outside world

by Blink_Blue



Series: Crashing Down [1]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Relationship, References to Depression, Worried Eddie Diaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24346492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink_Blue/pseuds/Blink_Blue
Summary: Buck doesn't like to take pain meds. Eddie finds out by accident and assumes the worst.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: Crashing Down [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757365
Comments: 20
Kudos: 515





	Movements of an outside world

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt came from Lilie on Tumblr. A big thank you to them and hope this fills it at least a little bit :)

After the first surgery, Eddie is more than happy to help Buck with anything the other man needs. He comes over with take-out, hand-drawn cards from Christopher, and he always brings in the mail. He even helps Buck take a damn shower after he gets out of the hospital. Which is awkward as hell because Eddie pretty much has to wash and lather while Buck stands with his hands pressed against the wet walls, struggling to stay balanced on one good foot on the slippery floor. 

It’s all a welcome distraction really. Eddie is eager for anything that will take his mind off his recently deceased wife. Now that the funeral is over and his overbearing parents are back in Texas, he can focus on moving on. 

And worrying about Buck is a hell of a lot easier than worrying about his kid, who just lost his mom. Christopher doesn’t speak much, which isn’t like him at all. He’s understandably devastated. After all, Shannon had only recently come back into his life, and he was so happy to see her. Now, he’s lost her twice and Eddie can't help but blame himself for letting this happen. He could go out of his mind with worry if he thinks about it too much. 

So when Eddie happens to glance into the trash can in Buck’s bathroom and sees a familiar orange pill bottle, he frowns. He picks it out of the mostly empty trash and checks the label. Percocet prescribed to Evan Buckley. Quantity, thirty. 

It’s more than they would prescribe to most, but a firefighter’s health coverage is top tier, so Eddie doesn’t think the prescription is strange. What irks him is that the damn bottle is empty. And it’s only been a week and a half since Buck was discharged.

Eddie blinks at the bottom of the bottle as if the pills might magically manifest out of thin air. 

He swallows a sinking feeling as he realizes that Buck’s leg must be hurting him a lot worse than he’s letting on. 

Eddie tosses the bottle back into the trash.

“Christ man, how much pain are you in?” Eddie asks, as he steps out of the bathroom and joins Buck in his living room.

Buck looks up from his spot on the couch, brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“The Percocets.” Eddie points his thumb behind him toward the bathroom. “I saw the empty bottle.” 

Buck kind of hunches over, a hand resting casually on his knee as he grimaces. “It’s not that bad,” he mutters. 

Eddie scoffs. Opioids like oxycodone are only supposed to be taken for the first few days after surgery, as needed, and not more than once every four to six hours. He wasn’t expecting Buck to have gotten this far, much less finished the damn bottle. Not given all the stories they’ve heard about fellow firefighters injured in the line of duty becoming addicted to the very medications prescribed to help them get better. 

Eddie tries to brush aside his worry. “Hey, you know you don’t have to hide anything from me,” he says gently.

Buck tries to smile but it doesn’t really work when he’s not willing to meet Eddie’s eyes. “I’m fine, it’s uh… it’s really not that bad. Besides, they’ve got me on Tylenol 3 now.”

Eddie pulls a face and nods. “Oh right, light opioids,” he says sarcastically. “That’s much better.”

“It’s a narcotic for mild to moderate pain,” Buck says dryly. 

Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes. He can’t push aside the feeling that there’s something Buck isn’t telling him. The other man truly looks miserable. “Hey, why don’t you stay at my place for a while? You know, while you’re getting back on your feet. Figuratively,” he adds. Because Buck definitely won’t be walking anytime soon. 

“Stay at your place?” Buck echoes. 

“Yeah, why not?” Eddie shrugs. “I mean, if you’re going to be sleeping on a couch, mine’s definitely more comfortable.”

“I don’t know,” Buck says, looking a bit reluctant. “I don’t want to be an inconvenience.” 

“Are you kidding me? I get a free babysitter out of this, I’d be crazy not to jump on it.” Eddie grins as the younger man chuckles. “Plus I have an actual bathtub, no stairs, and you get to hang out with the greatest kid of all time.” 

“Yeah, alright,” Buck says with a lopsided grin. “You’ve convinced me.”

Relief washes over him. Eddie wants to keep Buck close and make sure he’s alright with his own eyes. 

“Besides, Ali peaced out on me a few days ago,” Buck mutters. “So I could use the company.”

Eddie frowns. “Ali broke up with you? I thought you guys were getting along great. She was there practically every day you were in the hospital.”

Buck shrugs and shakes his head. “She uh… she said she couldn’t stand seeing me hurt, even doing what I love. And if it wasn't going to work out, I guess she didn’t want to stick around while I’ve got a bum leg.” Buck raps his knuckles gently against the cast. “Can’t really blame her.”

“Fuck that,” Eddie says, sounding pissed. But he’s already got his back turned and is walking away before Buck can speak. He practically skips up the stairs to grab Buck’s duffle to fill with clothes, enough for at least a week. “If she couldn’t find it in herself to stick around, then she doesn’t deserve you,” he says, loud enough for his voice to carry down to Buck.

There’s a pause. “Thanks, man,” Buck eventually says, his voice raised. 

“You’ll find someone better,” Eddie insists. He’s digging through Buck’s drawers, pulling out t-shirts, gym shorts, and underwear. A hoodie, in case Buck gets cold. He goes for toiletries next, pulling items from the master bath that he thinks Buck will need. Anything else Buck can borrow. 

The bag is nearly overflowing when Eddie chuckles to himself, realizing he’d nearly forgotten socks. He grabs those too. 

Buck still looks miserable when Eddie approaches him, duffle slung over his shoulder. 

“Come on,” Eddie nods his head gently. He holds out his arms and Buck grabs onto him, face straining as he pulls himself to his feet. Eddie waits until he’s stabilized before reaching to hand the crutches to him. 

“Got it?” He asks quietly. 

Buck nods. He grimaces in pain and Eddie kind of hates the helpless feeling in the pit of his stomach, one that has persisted since Shannon told him that she wanted a divorce and was then was hit by a car, all in the span of twenty-four hours. 

They slowly make their way to the front door. 

On their way out, Eddie grabs the prescription bag sitting on Buck’s dining table. 

There they are, he notes. Those Tylonol 3s. 

* * *

Having Buck at his place seems to improve everyone’s mood. Christopher starts to open up. He’s been playing with his toys and smiling again. Though sometimes when Eddie walks past his room late at night, he thinks he still hears sniffling. 

While they all like to joke that Buck has the heart of a child and the mind of a retriever, he genuinely loves hanging out with kids. He’ll build Lego houses with Christopher, squint at tiny puzzle pieces with him until his eyes hurt, and watch cartoons that Christopher loves for hours without complaint. Eddie always smiles when he sees them together. When they have Denny or Chris’s friends from school over, Buck is both one of them and a babysitter.

Eddie thinks he’s got a pretty good deal going on. 

Every once in a while, Buck winces and reaches for his ankle through the cast, as if it could relieve the pain. Eddie swallows when he sees this, Buck with his eyes closed, a grimace on his face. And he wonders if Buck has taken his next dose of pain relief yet. 

At the station when Chim or Hen ask how he’s doing, Eddie sighs and tells them honestly, that Buck has been miserable from pain, antsy out of boredom, and is just plain moping on the sofa. He tells them that his last doctor’s visit didn’t have a great prognosis. 

Eddie always catches a glimpse of guilt on Bobby’s face whenever he mentions that Buck isn’t doing well. “Hey Cap, why don’t you and Athena come over for dinner sometime this week?” Eddie asks. “Maybe Michael could get a night with the kids? Or bring ‘em. There’s plenty of room.”

Bobby looks relieved at the offer. “That sounds great, Eddie. Though if you’re cooking, don’t mind if I warn the family ahead of time.”

Eddie gives him a dry laugh. “Very funny,” he says. And then a beat later, “Buck would love to see more of you, Cap.”

Everyone tries to visit, as much as they can. But their friends all have families and busy work schedules. Eddie knows that Buck misses everyone. He misses being at the station, being _with_ them. 

Maddie pulls him aside one day. And while Buck is preoccupied with Chimney and Christopher in the living room, she whispers that she’s worried about her brother. 

“I’m afraid he’s pushing himself too hard.” Her voice is tense and her brow furrowed with worry. “Did he tell you he’s getting another surgery?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says softly, eyes glancing towards the other room. “He said his doctor wants to replace the rod? Do some bone grafts?”

Maddie scoffs. “Oh, did he not tell you that his doctor wants him to wait? That it could all heal fine on its own? Buck is the one pushing for the surgery!”

Eddie blanches. “What?” He asks, dumbfounded.

“He wants to be better _so_ badly that he’s not thinking straight. He wants to get another major surgery because it might cut a few _weeks_ of healing time! And… I’m scared he’s going to push himself too hard.”

Eddie sighs slowly. Buck is desperate to speed up the healing process. And Eddie knows from his own past injuries that physical healing just can’t be rushed. Every day, he sees the misery and the pain on Buck’s face. How awful he looks when he thinks no one is watching. 

Buck still has a long way to go. Months of physical therapy. He’ll have to train again—hard, and pass physical tests before they let him back to active duty. Optimistically, Bobby said it could be up to a year before Buck is reinstated. Given the severity of the injury, it could even be longer. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Eddie eventually says. 

Maddie lays a hand on his arm and squeezes tight. A tense smile pulls at her lips, and she nods. 

* * *

The second surgery comes and goes, and again Eddie insists that Buck come back to his place. 

Christopher is ecstatic to be able to mark up Buck’s new cast. Eddie watches his son scribble pictures and get well wishes in his messy scrawl, all while Buck smiles and gives him words of encouragement. 

It’s funny how he’d gotten so used to Buck’s presence in his house, that during his two days in the hospital, it felt like he was missing a limb. 

Even Christopher seemed dampened without Buck there. 

“Six to eight weeks, the doc said,” Buck says determinedly, as he glares down at the new cast. “ _Six_ weeks,” he settles. 

Eddie frowns. “It’ll go by before you know it,” he says, trying to be supportive. 

Buck doesn’t look convinced. But after a moment, he nods. 

“Hey, where are those pain meds they sent you home with?” Eddie asks, noticing how tense the other man is. A tell-tale grimace is painted across his face. 

Buck frowns, which Eddie thinks is weird. But then he points to his duffle bag on the floor next to the door. Eddie unzips it and finds the pharmacy bag right on top. He walks over and hands it to Buck, saying, “I’ll get you some water.” And he walks away before he can see Buck crumbling the bag in his hands, a pinched, tense look on his face.

* * *

As the weeks go by, Buck’s mood consistently worsens. He’s short-tempered and angsty, probably a little resentful at being stuck inside most of the time. He's able to drive, just has nowhere to go. Eddie thought having their friends over would help. And sometimes it does. Other times, Buck just ends up lashing out at them as well. 

Maddie doesn’t put up with it. She’s one of the few who will put Buck in his place right now. Dejected and a little embarrassed, Buck apologizes every time. Because he knows she’s right, he’s surrounded by people who love him and want to see him get better. Sometimes, he just needs a reminder. 

“Hey, you need me to pick up your prescription for you?” Eddie says casually, not wanting to make it obvious that he’d been counting the days. 

Buck nods but doesn’t say a word. 

Bobby has been a big help too. And Buck doesn’t even have to ask, the older man offers to join him at every doctor’s appointment, more than happy to shift around his schedule at the station to do so. 

* * *

When the cast finally comes off, it’s not as simple as just hitting the gym to get his strength back. 

Buck needs two weeks of rehab to improve strength and flexibility, just to be able to walk on the leg properly. The doctor also emphasized its importance in preventing further injury or chronic problems. 

It’s not easy. And Buck’s stubbornness and impatience doesn’t make it any better, for himself or anyone else. 

On really bad days, he comes back from rehab and ices his leg for hours, on and off. He finally went back to his own apartment, eager for a real bed to sleep in and his personal freedom, even if the stairs are killer to take. Eddie thinks that maybe Buck also prefers to be alone right now. That he would rather suffer by himself than let others see him miserable. That scares him a bit. 

But he’s a full-time dad and firefighter. Eddie can’t spend all his time worrying about Buck. He's done enough of that lately.

He knows his best friend can be a stubborn bastard sometimes. But he trusts that if it gets too bad, Buck will let him know. After all, Buck was there for him when he needed help with Christopher. He was there when Shannon came back and Eddie felt lost and confused. Helpless. They’ve got each other’s backs, that’s what they promised. 

The physical therapist says that Buck is making good progress, better than most with similar injuries. But it’s not fast enough. The stiffness lingers for weeks. His muscles feel weak from months of disuse. And he wants to feel strong again. He wants to feel like himself again. 

None of it happens fast enough. 

Bobby’s there for some of the physical therapy. Later he tells Eddie that Buck is doing well, albeit pushing himself hard. The words of worry are left unsaid. But Eddie hears them anyway.

Sometimes, Eddie thinks that Buck might be depressed. 

He’s quiet, not like his usual self. Eddie’s familiar with how it goes. When he returned from active duty, he went through a period of physical healing and mental depression. He needed time before he knew who he was outside a war zone. An adjustment period, as he was learning to be a dad. Looking back, that was at least partially why he and Shannon kept butting heads, always arguing, and never seeing eye to eye on anything. 

But with Buck, it’s different.

Even when it’s hard, it’s somehow easy. Eddie trusts Buck with his kid, the most important thing in his life. And he wants to see Buck back with the 118, because they’re partners, and he trusts him with his actual life too. 

He still remembers Buck’s screams when they lifted the ladder track, raw and pained. He flinches every time he thinks about those blood-curdling cries, the echoes of it still make him cringe in horror. Eddie can only imagine what damage lifting and dropping the weight had done to his crushed leg. 

As weeks go by, Buck has more and more good days, when he laughs and grins and talks about how training is going. He says that he's almost back to his old physical condition. Just needs a little more work. 

Eddie thinks that maybe things are finally looking up. 

But he’s been fooled before, and that’s made him a cynic.

* * *

They’re hanging out at Buck’s apartment, drinking a few beers while an old baseball game plays on the television. An over-enthusiastic gesture at a dropped ball has beer spilling over the lap of his jeans. 

“Goddamnit,” Eddie exclaims while Buck throws his head back in a laugh. 

“Grab a pair of sweats from my dresser,” Buck says with a grin. 

So Eddie goes up to Buck’s loft. And because he's been through Buck's drawers, he _knows_ without even looking, that the top drawer is going to be socks and underwear. So he doesn’t know why, but he opens it without thinking, and that’s when he sees orange and white. 

Eddie pauses. And then his heart clenches in his chest. He reaches for a bottle and reads the label. Eddie _knows_ this bottle. He was the one who picked it up from the pharmacy. 

And there are others, so many others, buried between socks and boxer briefs. 

Tylenol with codeine. Percocets. Even goddamn ibuprofen that Eddie had picked up for him once the prescriptions ran out of refills. Every single bottle is there. Every single one of them full and heavy, little pills rattling around noisily as Eddie rummages through them. 

Pills should be kept in the medicine cabinet, or in the linen closet, or on top of the dresser. Maybe on the kitchen counter next to the coffee maker. Not buried under socks in a drawer like it’s something to hide. 

Which means Buck is hiding something. 

His beer-stained pants forgotten, Eddie storms down the stairs. “What the hell is this?” He waves three orange bottles in Buck’s face, just a few that he had managed to grab. 

“Eddie—” Buck starts, staring at the bottles, looking ashen. 

“You’ve been lying to me?” Eddie demands. “I found all the bottles, Buck. Every single one that I picked up for you. All these months—” He cuts off and bites his tongue, shaking his head painfully. “What the hell is this, huh?! You haven’t taken any of them!”

“Eddie, I can explain.” Buck’s voice is small. Small enough that Eddie can bulldoze over him, unable to wait for an explanation. His mind is rushing in a dozen different directions.

“What the hell?” Eddie asks, thinking the worst. Thinking that maybe Buck was saving the pills for something. After everything that Buck has gone through these past few months, after all the work he put in, the loneliness and the pain, maybe he was sick and tired of it. Maybe Eddie hadn’t done enough to help him. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

“What the hell were you going to do?” 

Buck grimaces. “It’s not like that,” he says through gritted teeth.

Eddie takes a breath. “Then tell me,” he pleads. And the only thing he can think is—“Are you going to hurt yourself?” 

Buck pales. “No!” He gasps. “No, Eddie, I would never! I swear,” he adds, seeing that Eddie doesn’t look quite convinced. 

Eddie drops his arm. He breathes, once and then again and again, until he’s feeling more steady. He doesn’t know what to think. Seeing all those pills… of course he knew that over five months of healing and physical therapy that there would be a lot of them. Most of the time, he was the one going to the pharmacy for Buck. 

But just seeing them all at once. It gave him an uneasily feeling—no, it downright scared him.

And he wants to know why they’re there.

“I haven’t taken any pain meds, Eddie,” Buck says softly, dropping his gaze. “I mean, an ibuprofen here and there, when it’s really bad… but otherwise, I just… ice and wait for the pain to go away.”

Eddie blinks once and swallows, feeling nauseous. “Why?”

Buck sighs softly and closes his eyes. “I even looked up some of these meditation videos on YouTube. How to push pain out of your brain. Some weird yoga shit. And shockingly… they kind of work.”

“Why wouldn’t you just take the pills, Buck?” Eddie asks softly. “They're prescribed to help you manage the pain and get through weeks of rehab and physical therapy. The more you can do, the faster you'll heal, and the quicker you’ll get back to us!”

Buck bows his head. His drooped shoulders kind of make him look small. Which is an impressive feat for Buck. 

“I overdosed once.” He says it so quietly that Eddie thinks at first he might have heard wrong.

“Are you serious?”

Buck nods. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Sort of makes you never want to go near the stuff again.”

Eddie glances down at the orange bottles in his hand. He kind of wants to hide them out of sight now. 

“The first bottle of Percocets, I flushed down the toilet. You mentioned the empty bottle in the trash and I just… I don’t know, I felt weird about it,” Buck admits. “So after that, instead of flushing them, I just hid them away.”

“I… I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward,” Eddie says quietly. He slowly walks over and settles down onto the couch next to the younger man. “You want to talk about it?” He finally asks. 

“It wasn’t… I know what you’re thinking,” Buck pauses, and then tries again. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself or anything, I wasn’t that messed up.”

For the record, Eddie wasn’t thinking that. And the thought makes his chest clench tight in a cold chill.

“I partied a lot in school, drank too much, did a lot of drugs. Woke up next to a puddle of puke on several occasions,” Buck says dryly. 

Eddie nods, like he understands. But he was never one for recreational drugs. And he hadn’t known Buck back then. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t have liked him as much. 

“Anyway, that continued for a few years. Even after school ended, it—” Buck bites his lip and mutters, “I guess it got worse. I don’t know, I hit a… a rough patch.”

“What happened?” Eddie asks quietly.

Buck shakes his head. His eyes are glazed, staring at some blank spot on the floor. Eventually he shudders a heavy breath and says, “I don’t really know what happened. I feel like I was kind of out of it at the time. The pills made me feel good. I took one and then another and then another. Next thing I know, I’m coming to and my roommate has his finger down my throat and I’m puking up half a bottle of… fuck, whatever, I can’t even remember anymore.”

Neither of them speak for a while. Buck drops his head and runs a hand through his hair, longer now that he hasn’t been cutting it as regularly. “I’m sorry, it’s just some dumb shit I did when I was younger. I wasn't an addict, I swear. It never got that bad. I never went through withdrawal. It’s just... something in my past. Just forget I said anything.”

“No, Buck. Don’t apologize,” Eddie says quickly. “I just… I wish I had known. I never would have pushed for you to get all those pills for your leg.”

The thing is, Buck never really talks about his life before joining the 118. Eddie knows a few details, here and there. He knows Buck isn’t close to his parents, that he and Maddie lost contact for a few years, and Buck had gone to school somewhere on the East coast. He had never mentioned problems with drugs or drinking. And Buck’s tolerance for alcohol is pretty high. He can definitely drink Eddie under the table. It feels weird, finding out these painful things about Buck’s past. 

He wonders if Bobby knows. 

Eddie wants to ask for more, but it just doesn't seem his place. And Buck clearly doesn't want to talk about it.

“If you don’t want to take them, that’s fine. It’s not a big deal,” Eddie says quietly. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Buck runs a hand over his face tiredly. “I don’t like to think about it,” he admits. “How I was back then. How I didn’t care about my own health or safety. I’m always… I’m trying to do better. I guess a part of me is scared to fall into old habits.”

Eddie thinks about the bouts of depression he saw in the other man. How sometimes, Buck wouldn’t get off the couch for days. He was worried then. Hearing this doesn’t make him feel much better.

“Bobby would have a field day if he heard you now,” Eddie says dryly. “He still insists you run into every situation without thinking about yourself.”

Buck chuckles and bows his head. He wipes his face on his shoulder and Eddie doesn’t make any comment about it. 

“What happened after?” Eddie asks curiously.

“A few months after that, I decided to get away. I spent a summer near São Paulo. I think I just needed a fresh start. Like a reset button or something. It helped. I came out of it, ready to actually do something with my life. Eventually I ended up here.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“Me too. Otherwise, your kid would be living off of take-out and frozen microwave dinner meals.”

Eddie can’t help it, he laughs. And then Buck chuckles too, grinning ear to ear. Later on, he’ll tell Buck that Christopher has been missing his breakfasts now that he’s not staying over as much. 

“You’re not bothered by this?” 

“I’m just glad that you’re okay,” Eddie says. “These past few months… I know you’ve had it rough, man. We’re all worried about you and we just want to see you better.”

After a pause, Buck says, “I’m good. I’ll be back before you know it. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Eddie wants to tell him, not a chance in hell. Instead he turns back toward the television and asks what he missed. Buck’s already seen this game.

The pill bottles lay forgotten, sinking into the crevice of the couch. 

Eddie reaches for his beer and leans back as Buck catches him up. Neither of them talk about the pills again. Instead, choosing to believe that Buck’s physical health issues are mostly behind him. 

They should have listened. Buck to his body and his friends, family, and doctors who all said he was pushing himself too hard, too fast. And Eddie, to the nagging feeling in his gut that things are going to get worse before they get better. 

**Author's Note:**

> [x](http://winters-blue-children.tumblr.com)


End file.
